The Black Panthers: Vanguard of the Revolution

As a national social, cultural, political, and borderline revolutionary force in the late ‘60s and early ‘70s, the Black Panther Party represented diverse ideals and visions for anyone who raised their fist in the air to be counted as a beret-sporting, leather jacket-wearing militant. The Black Panthers: Vanguard of the Revolution is a historical documentary full of black and white photographs, aged news footage, and interviews featuring white-haired and stooped over Party veterans. Then why does the conversation feel so relevant and tied to 2015 even though we’re discussing 1968? Has nothing changed? Did the rapid rise and steady fall of the Black Panther Party achieve nothing beyond notoriety, prison terms, and a handful of martyrs? The platform and goals thousands of Panther protestors demanded in the streets are strikingly familiar slogans today. “Hands up, Don’t Shoot” would fit right in amongst the throngs in downtown Oakland some 50 years ago. As a film, Vanguard of the Revolution is more effective as an unsettling reminder of how much social progress has stagnated than as historical document showing audiences how, why, and to what extent the Panthers shaped the course of history.

Just as contemporary news media lives by the “If it bleeds, it leads” dogma, director Stanley Nelson chose to include just about every Panther event involving a fired bullet or the brandishing of firearms. The shootouts blend together after the third of fourth one but two particular events highlight the Panther’s relationship on both sides of the gun barrel. The Panthers first gained national attention when they took advantage of California’s lenient open carry laws arming themselves with assault rifles and shotguns observing law enforcement in their day-to-day activities and even walking right into the state capitol building, a stunt quickly drawing Governor Ronald Reagan’s attention. On the other side, J. Edgar Hoover’s standing orders to his FBI field offices to prevent the “rise of a black messiah” are quite damning in conjunction with the outright political assassination of Fred Hampton, a man on the verge of unifying the fractured Party.

The Panthers had their fair share of charismatic leaders carving out their own spheres of influence among the faithful. Hampton had the possibility to transcend them all, but what the Party was left with were Huey P. Newton, Bobby Seale, and Eldridge Cleaver. Nelson pays each of these men their due attention with Newton receiving slightly more coverage than his peers. Cleaver’s influence and ideas feel a bit underserved but I’ve always preferred to listen to Stokely Carmichael than Cleaver. Nelson’s most glaring oversight is the almost complete absence of Carmichael. I noticed him in a brief montage in the beginning, but I never even heard his name mentioned.

In the brief moments Nelson takes a break from bullets and figureheads, he focuses on perhaps the most interesting facet of the Panthers and the very essence of what could have led to their success and future had the Party not given up on it, their community activism. The Panthers organized free breakfast meals for poor, local school children, an inspiring move set right next to video of the same kids learning catchy tunes about guns, ammunition, and street warfare. A few of the interviewees hint at what the Panther Party may have morphed into had certain leaders faded away and the community efforts remained in force. Perhaps the Party would be more than a chapter in the Civil Rights Era buried between Malcolm X and the upcoming crack epidemic.

This new Black Panther film gains more perspective and context if viewed together with 2011’s The Black Power Mixtape 1967-1975, which unearthed never before seen footage of Carmichael and Angela Davis, two far more charismatic spokespeople than Newton or Seale. We are left with the feeling The Black Panther Party was cut short. Stuffed full of blackmailed informants and drivers steering the organization astray, we will never know if the Party could have succeeded in their quest for equality and justice or if they would have ended the way they did, with a disinterested shoulder shrug. However, there are uncomfortable and timely lessons to learn here which apply as urgently today as they did so long ago.